Genesis Girl (Blank Slate #1) - Jennifer Bardsley Page 0,74

right about that all along. Sometimes the truth is the best weapon.

Beau knows the truth, because I told him. Vestals aren’t the boss of us. We get to choose.

Just like Ms. Lydia got to choose. She could have left Beau locked in his cell to cook to death, or she could have released him, right before she came out of the villa.

Beau stands there now, right behind Barbelo. Beau picks up the hoe and laughs. I see Beau next to the helicopters.

Right next to Barbelo’s head, hanging crooked from his neck.

Chapter Twenty

The lion-headed snake is before me, and it’s all I see. Every last inch of me is covered in pain, so I focus on that snake. I’m a survivor, I’ve got good instincts, and I can think for myself.

The last time I saw that snake, I was speaking to it on the villa roof. Now I don’t know where I am. All I hear is beeping, and the soft whoosh of air-conditioning.

“Her eyes are open,” I hear someone whisper.

“Blanca?” somebody asks. Somebody is holding my hand.

“Call the doctor,” the snake says. It takes me another minute or two before I realize that it’s Seth. He stares at me and wipes his eyes.

“It was real,” I whisper.

“What?”

“It was real,” I say again. But I can’t talk anymore because it hurts too much. My throat feels like it’s been ripped to shreds.

“Get her some water,” Cal says.

I turn my head and there he is, talking to a nurse. Cal’s face looks older, grayer somehow. But he’s smiling and crying too.

I’m in a hospital. I can see that now. I look down across the bed, and I’m covered in sheets. Underneath I see bandages and casts. I’m wearing a blue-and-green checked hospital gown. Blue and green.

“Get it off!” I say hoarsely. I struggle to lift my arm. It’s the only thing that’s not hurting. “Take this off!”

“They didn’t have white,” Seth says. “I asked. Blanca, I promise I asked.”

“I’ll call the head nurse.” Cal springs to his feet. “I’ll try again.”

“No,” I say, fighting to get out the words. “My cuff. Take off my cuff!”

They both look at me, motionless for a second. Then they say “Yes” at exactly the same time.

Seth picks up my wrist and struggles to find the nonexistent clasp. “There’s no opening!”

I’m crying now. I can’t talk and there are tears rolling down my cheeks. I’ll never be free. I’ve come so far, but it still isn’t over. I’ve been sealed for life.

Cal leans over with a cup of water and a straw. The water tastes good on my throat, like everything might be able to be okay after all.

“I’ll find help,” Cal says. “We’ll take that cuff off for you right away. You’re going to be fine, sweetheart. I promise.” When he leaves the room, I hear Cal blow his nose, hard.

Then it’s just me alone with Seth.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“For what?” Seth holds my hand in both of his.

“For being so crazy. For not telling you the truth.”

“Which time?” A hint of a grin floats across Seth’s face. He leans down and brushes his lips against mine in a chaste kiss.

I reach for Seth’s collar and pull him in for something better. Our lips part, and our tongues touch. I’m transported to sunshine, orange trees, and happiness.

“Real or fake?” he whispers when we finally come up for air.

“Real,” I answer. “Definitely real.”

The windows are wide open, and all the lights are on. There are about a million doctors and nurses in my hospital room, and almost everyone is filming me. That’s why Beau’s not here too; he’s still camera shy.

“Are you ready?” Cal asks me.

“Yes, Cal. Of course, Cal,” I say. Then I laugh at my own joke. I don’t mind that nobody else thinks it’s funny.

My arm is lying on pillows, ready and waiting for the surgeon to cut off my cuff with a laser. I was the one who wanted the witnesses.

“Hands up, people,” I say to the crowd. “I want the whole world to see this.”

“But don’t send it to The Lighthouse,” Seth adds. “Veritas Rex gets first dibs.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” says Cal. He holds up a new chip-watch.

“What’s that about?” I ask, but they don’t have time to answer.

The surgeon is ready. He makes measured cuts through the metal. The whole room erupts in cheers when the cuff splits open.

My tears start when my cuff falls off. They roll down my cheeks, washing away the shame. It’s like a